Page 17 of The Scot

“For my grandmother. Aye. My mother enjoyed using it for play, as did my siblings and I later on. But its purpose was not for two generations of children’s enjoyment.”

He waited for her to make the connection.

“You think John is delaying.”

Terric wished he knew for certain. And though he knew Idalia had told Roysa everything, ’twas odd, still. Speaking so openly with a stranger.

A stranger that made him oddly comfortable to speak freely.

“’Tis likely. His father favored the tactic.”

Roysa shook her head, although not in disagreement, and covered her face with her hands. He had been preparing for this, for the possibility John’s promised meeting did not happen—that he had, indeed, been assembling men to attack them.

“He is a bastard, with bastard blood.” It may have been the father and his men who’d personally wronged their family, but the son was no better.

“Is that why your father came here so rarely?”

Terric was sure of it. “I believe so. He always thought my mother safer with his people than hers.”

“My sister is in danger here as well.”

He hated that it was so. And noticed she did not account for herself, thinking of Idalia instead. “Safer here than at Stanton or Tuleen.”

Realizing he’d already said too much, Terric stood, taking off both gloves and rubbing his hands together. He needed a fire.

“The day you arrived—”

“My husband died. Was killed by a man I know is despicable. I believe I was lucky to leave Stokesay alive.”

“’Tis a mark of your bravery and ingenuity that you did so.”

Maybe not so much like Isobel, as neither quality could be associated with the only woman he’d ever loved. And who had confessed to caring more for his brother. Unfortunately for Rory, he’d been born minutes after him. Both their Scottish and English inheritance forfeited to his older brother.

They should not be alone here. The look she gave him now could get both of them into trouble. They left the building, both somber.

But there was no help for it. A fight was coming to them, Terric was certain of it.

Unfortunately, he was less certain they were ready. Not for the fight that may be coming. Nor for the woman with whom he’d shared more than intended.